Sipping on Fire
by mondlers
Summary: Upon his return to Hogwarts for his final year, Fred Weasley finds himself in a predicament even he couldn't see coming. Maybe George has slipped him one of their very own love potions or he's inhaled dung bomb fumes one too many times...or maybe, just maybe, he really does have a thing for his little brother's best friend. (Updated Rewrite of "The Restricted Section")
1. Chapter 1

"Another year, another reason to drink. Am I right or am I right?"

It took Fred a long moment to process what his brother had asked him, his focus held on the picturesque countryside passing by him outside the window. Blame it on fatigue or blame it on one too many Chocolate Frogs brewing up a mean ache in his stomach, but he was, momentarily, far less entertaining than his usual self.

"There are a lot of reasons in this world to down a shot of Firewhiskey," Fred explained as he turned to face what was seemingly his own reflection. "And this, Georgie, nearly tops the list. Just below Mum when she's on a rampage."

"So her all the time, yeah?"

Laughter filled the small space as the boys shared the fond memories of tormenting their mother all summer long while they were on recess from school. With candy strewn all along the seats, robes hanging haphazardly from the hooks above them and the boys eventually roaring with laughter over possibilities of all the mayhem to come, it was almost too easy to miss a knock on the compartment door.

"_Ahem_."

Their noisy discussion of Wheezes and the first years they planned to target was cut short by a harsh throat clearing. Even a simple noise from her was almost distinguishable from others. George bit into a licorice wand as their attention shifted from one another to the brown haired girl in the door.

"We're talking official Wheezes business here, Hermione," George told her, using his half eaten candy to wag it at her warningly.

"Top secret stuff," Fred added as he popped an Every Flavoured Bean in his mouth.

"I could care less about your _business_, boys," she retorted coolly. "I'm looking for Harry and Ronald. I can't find them."

"Maybe they've gone off somewhere to snog," Fred offered with a grin and a waggle of his eyebrows. He swore he almost saw the glint of a smile come from her.

"Doubtful," she replied matter-a-factly. "Last Ron told me, he was using the lavatory and well—"

The twins watched as Hermione's stern demeanor turned slightly abashed.

"You want us to check the loo to see if ickle Ronnie-kins is still riding the porcelain pony."

Fred couldn't stifle his laughter and nearly choked on what was left of his Every Flavoured Bean. Covering his mouth, both to save them the sight of him hacking his candy back up and to try and control his snickering, he watched as Hermione's face changed from embarrassed to slightly amused.

"_Yes_, I suppose that's it," she agreed with an eye roll, cheeks tinged pink. "But I could've used a much less _crude_ description, thank you very much."

"You're welcome," George chuckled as he stood up. "I'll go make sure Ron's got everything under control in there. If I don't come back—" George shot a look of fake seriousness to the two of them. "—I've probably put a dung bomb in his toilet so just wait for an explosion."

Fred's twin retreated the compartment, maniacal laughter echoing behind him. With a soft shake of his head, Fred grabbed another sweet and held up the bag to Hermione who was still lingering around, no doubt to see if Ron showed up in one piece or covered in toilet water.

"No thanks," she said properly. "I've already had too much of Harry's. Plus, I got a liver flavored one earlier and it hasn't quite settled yet."

Her laughter, so rare it seems, made the air between them a bit lighter.

"Ron thought I was kidding when I told him there is a bogey flavored one," Fred explained. "Not that I blame him for being skeptical, but it made things ten times better when he actually got one."

She couldn't hide her smirk and the sight was pleasant. After all the years he'd known Hermione, he could only remember a handful of times he'd seen her _really_ laugh. And a girl like her, wound so tight all the time, could certainly use a chuckle or two every now and again.

"…can't even finish my business without getting ruddy interrupted…whole bathroom bloody heard it…can't believe—Hermione, why on Earth would you send _them_ to get me?"

Ron was quick to send a stern and irritated look towards Hermione who looked both apologetic and amused at the same time. George followed close behind him, beaming with pride as he rejoined his twin and fell quickly into a fit of laughter.

"He charmed my—my _ass_ to the toilet!"

"Ronald, relax," Hermione said as her voice quivered, aching to laugh. She laid a soothing hand on his chest. "I'm sorry, come on. We'll be at the school soon."

The boys barely heard Hermione bid them goodbye as Ron rubbed his rear self-consciously, the twins cackling with amusement as the two departed.

**···················**

"Oi! Sleeping Beauty!"

George's voice pierced through Fred's slumber, waking him instantly. Forehead cooled from leaning on the window and neck sore from craning it uncomfortably, Fred shook his head subtly and blinked quickly.

"I prefer _Aurora_," Fred joked lazily as he woke slowly. Running his long fingers through ginger locks, he looked up at his brother curiously. "What's up?"

"Unless you're planning on going back home to Mum and Dad, I'd suggest you pick up the pace. We're here."

George nodded towards the hall, motioning to exit the train. Fred was quick to join him, tossing his dark, billowing robes on like he had done a thousand times before and adjusting himself before following his brotherly silently.

Still half awake from an unsettled nap on the train, he groggily navigated himself through the dimly lit train platform and towards the carriages, blindly following George.

"You look like you just got over a sleeping potion, mate," George observed, hanging back to talk to his brother. "Look alive, yeah?"

"Sorry, sorry," Fred apologized and yawned simultaneously. "Sugar high's coming down is all."

"Yeah well I need your keen eye to help me find Katie."

Quick to offer a look of curiosity, Fred was fully aware of George's interest in their friend but he never passed up the opportunity to discuss the topic.

"Wouldn't be surprised if she's with Angelina," he said with a shrug. "The two are inseparable. You might have to fight to sit next to her."

"I'm not worried about Angelina," George said cockily as his brown eyes cast over the crowd of students. "I'm more worried about what we're going to do with _you_."

Fred shot his brother a confused glance before nearly toppling over a first year student.

"What are you talking about?"

"Well I'm sure as hell not tackling the taken life alone," George explained simply. "I need someone to get me through the sappy dates once I woo Katie. We're finding you a woman, Freddie my boy, and a good one at that."

"You can't take all this—" Fred gestured to his tall, lanky frame. "—Away from the single ladies of Hogwarts, mate. That's just wrong."

George grinned at his twin with a hint of mischief in his smile. Fred could only return the gesture. He had no idea what kind of plan his brother was concocting, but he wasn't about to start doubting him now. And surely this was just a passing joke; it certainly wouldn't be the first time.

"They're no quidditch queens," George noted as they approached the carriage area, talking up to a half-filled one with Ron, Hermione, Harry and Neville Longbottom in it. "Well, Harry is—" George let out a short laugh. "But they'll have to do.

"Got room for two more?" George asked, looking up into the carriage.

"Depends," Ron said sourly. "If you come, I can't guarantee I won't charm _you_ to the seats."

Fred and George's similar laughs rang harmoniously as they hoisted themselves into the carriage without even a moment of hesitation, dismissing Ron's threat with a swift pat on the shoulder from each of them.


	2. Chapter 2

The ceremony was as usual—well, for the most part. The Sorting Hat called out houses and first years ran anxiously to their tables, Dumbledore made odd quips that made even Fred and George quirk an eyebrow and Neville Longbottom had long since lost _something_ and wouldn't stop moaning about it. Fred and George paid it all no mind, poking and prodding at the trays, hoping for the delectable food to come to appear sooner. Fred tapped the golden tray lightly with his wand, watching small blue sparks fly along the reflective top and heard the hall go completely silent; all except the faint whizzing of his spell.

Chocolate eyes pried from the golden plate and fell upon someone that was certainly _not_ Dumbledore standing dead center in front of the head table. In the form of a squat, pink nightmare, the woman cleared her throat and gazed out at the students eerily.

"I've never seen a toad that big before," Fred muttered quietly.

The woman spoke in an octave Fred had never think he'd heard before and of things he knew meant nothing to him and his brother. Talk of rules and discipline filled her long-winded speech and Fred found himself exchanging glances of mischief and deviance more often than he found himself actually listening to a word she said.

When her speech concluded there was an uncomfortable silence that George quickly filled with whopping applause and hooting. Instant in joining him, the twins' ovation was soon joined with the laughter of the student body humming pleasantly through the hall.

It soon erupted with hums of delight as the food finally appeared before them and every student's eyes feasted on the dinner rather than gawked at the awful woman they'd just met.

"You think they'd expel me if went and grabbed the plate out from under her nose?" George asked casually, pointing his fork up towards the new professor and chewing on a piece of chicken. "I mean if she eats another bite I'm sure one of those buttons is gonna bust off and kill one of the first years sitting nearby."

"They might give you a medal instead," Fred chimed in. "Ya' know on account of not only saving a child but saving us all from the horror of seeing that bloody woman without a top on."

The Gryffindor table lit up with life and laughter at the boys and the sheer enjoyment of being home again.

Conversations of new classes, new students and, for the twins, new pranks to come kept the dinner busy and before anyone knew it they were all waddling back to their common rooms, full on the delicious meal and desserts. It was good to be home, that was for sure.

**···················**

September came and went quickly. Classes gained momentum, quidditch trials were in full swing and the boys found themselves fully consumed with their joke shop, their minds racked with Wheezes, finding fitting targets for their newest inventions and making strides in their business. They made it a point to keep their studies up, mostly for their mother's sake, but juggling things was not the easiest task, even for the infamous Weasley twins.

It didn't help any that Umbridge was becoming a much bigger nuisance than even Fred and George themselves were. Constantly patrolling, scolding students for—well, _anything_—and seemingly with eyes everywhere in the castle, she was making it increasingly difficult for the two to test out their products or just get a quick pranking fix.

Tonight would prove to be no exception. Briefcase in hand, Fred's long legs strode down the empty corridor in unison with his brothers. After a successful testing of their boxing telescope on an unfortunate (but nevertheless willing) first year, they were swapping notes when their steady footsteps were joined by a much faster paced set, heels clicking loudly on the stone floor of the castle.

"Good evening, boys."

Her sickeningly high-pitched voice rang even louder in the silence of the hall. Fred and George made no hesitation to spin on their heels to face her and no effort to hide the dissatisfaction on their long faces.

"Come with me, will you?" She squeaked, her rosy cheeks stretching into an ugly grin. "I believe it's about time you boys finally learned what a _curfew_ means."

"If getting stuck with her is the punishment for being out past curfew, I might just start staying in," George whispered to Fred who found it hard to hide a laugh. The statement did not go unnoticed, her fat head turning slightly and shooting them a stoic and eerie glare as they followed behind her.

**···················**

"This can't be allowed. I mean, I know I'm not one for rules and all that, but this is just—"

"Wrong," Fred finished his brother's sentence.

"Wrong doesn't even cover it. It's cruel and unusual punishment if I ever saw it," Ginny chimed in, looking at her brothers, face lined with worry.

Scowls firmly in place, the twins inspected their hands, visibly damaged from whatever curse she'd cast on them. Aching, reddened and an ugly color from the bruising, Fred stared down at his maimed hand.

_I will not cause mischief_.

It was still shaking, but Fred wasn't sure if that was from the anger or the pain. Eyes darkened as they bore down on the words, as if staring at it would make the ugly marks disappear. Thin fingers wrapped under his unsteady palm, interrupting his focus, and guided his hand towards her.

Hermione was gentle and meticulous in her prodding, the pads of her fingers nimble and careful along Fred's wounds. Ginny tended to George's hand, though he was much less cooperative, fidgeting away from their youngest sibling and insisting he was fine.

"You said a quill did this?" Hermione's brow furrowed as she inspected Fred's hand closer. He itched to pull away as well, her staring making him grow increasingly restless.

"Yeah," he said shortly, sight still set on his hand. "She had us writing lines on parchment with no ink. I thought it was one of those character building things they try to get us to do—"

"But, no, she was just charming those bloody things into digging us up some new scars," George hissed, his uncharacteristic anger thick in his tone.

Muttering obscenities under his breath and pulling his hand from Ginny's grasp, George gave his brother a dark look before stomping upstairs without another word. In any other situation, Fred might've followed his twin, the feeling of being a little childish sounding pretty appealing at the moment, but it was Hermione that kept him grounded. Her sincere concern in their predicament made it hard to just pull away and join his brother upstairs.

"He'll get over it," Fred promised the girls, both of whom looked about as pleased as he did. "She'll have hers coming anyways," he added in a threatening tone.

"There's no need for it. You'll only earn more of these if you cross her again."

Hermione was right but Fred had no intentions of acting appropriately, not when that awful woman had harmed him and his brother. Before he could protest, Hermione was speaking again, much more cautiously this time.

"Maybe it's best I let you break the news to him then."

Confusion settled on Fred's expression and he gave Hermione an uncertain and, frankly, worried look.

"These cuts—they were given using dark magic," she began but Fred didn't need to hear the rest of it. He'd paid enough attention in class to know that scars from dark magic were permanent; unable to ever fully heal. Their friend Harry was proof of that. Sliding his hand from hers, Fred stood up without a word, only a harsh and stiff look on his face.

"Help me figure this out, Fred."

It wasn't a question. Stopping in his tracks, Fred turned around to face Hermione, who had a determined look on her face. He wanted to ignore her, truly, and just go on being mad until he and George concocted a brilliant form of revenge. But something told him to stay; to let her help.

"Don't let her get away with this," she told him sternly. "We'll figure out what this is and…"

His eyes fell upon the girls next to him, a close friend and his baby sister. Some of the most important people in his life and the last people he'd like seen in his current situation. He nodded shortly and looked to Hermione.

"And make sure she can't do this to anyone else."


	3. Chapter 3

"Honestly, it looks loads better," Hermione assured Fred, placing her pile of books on the common room table and taking his hand in hers. He could feel eyes on them, curious and intrigued, but paid them no mind. He let Hermione inspect him, both to diminish her worries and, admittedly, his as well.

"It still aches a bit, but only sometimes," Fred confessed, his right hand rubbing along the protruding scars on his left one.

Guiding George and him to proper healing creams and being an accessible listening ear, Hermione had been nothing short of their savior for the past few days; namely Fred. Normally the voice of reason between the two of them, his other half had been stubborn as a bull about the whole ordeal, putting all his energy into planning their retaliation. True, Fred was wound up about Umbridge's actions as well, but there was a calming factor that was keeping him grounded and it came in the form of a girl he'd normally overlook.

"That's because you're out there playing quidditch, Fred," she said disapprovingly. Hermione's dislike for the game was nothing new, and watching her shake her head in a scolding manner only made Fred want to smile more. "Don't give me that look, the game is _barbaric_."

"If you think I'm hopping off my broom over a few cuts and bruises, you obviously don't know me very well." Eyebrows raised and smirk in place, Fred began walking alongside her as she piled her books into her arms. Before he could think to do otherwise, Fred was scooping up the rest of them, noting how heavy they looked for any student let alone someone of her stature. "I'd gladly spend another night carving into my own hand than give her the satisfaction of keeping me away from practice."

"You're as stubborn as Ronald sometimes, I swear."

"Must be a Weasley thing. You _have_ met Mum before, right?" Fred joked, walking in time with Hermione through the halls.

It took a long moment before Fred realized something was off. The halls were empty, well emptier than usual. They had been particularly quiet since Umbridge's tyranny began but this was almost unsettling. And then it hit him.

"It's Saturday."

Her laugh rang through the hall, echoing off the stone walls while Fred stopped in his tracks.

"What in the name of Merlin are you doing with all these books on a _Saturday_, Granger?" Red head shaking in disapproval, Fred scoffed and caught back up with Hermione whose laughter still sang as she continued walking.

"If you think I'm falling off my study schedule just because it's Saturday, _you_ obviously don't know _me_ very well," she challenged him, grin in place.

For a few moments, gentle laughter filled every crevice of their surroundings, drowning out everything else: the pain in Fred's hand, the weight of the books in their arms and any awkwardness that had been lingering around. All Fred could think about was how nice it was.

"That'll put a damper on anyone's mood," Fred stated with a chortle, pulling his focus from Hermione and pointing to the large library doors in front of them. Turning his head and giving her a teasing glance, he waited for her inevitable defensive response.

"No one asked you to come here," she snipped coolly, turning on him. "I know you'd much rather be out testing your products on some unassuming first year."

"I have _no_ idea what you're talking about, Hermione," he replied sarcastically, pretending to be taken aback by her accusation. His expression changed from a forced look of cluelessness to amusement quickly, knowing that toying with her over Wheezes was a dangerous game to play.

Brown eyes rolled and pink lips scoffed at his display, leaving Fred grinning ear to ear. Despite her usual, almost Percy-like, uptight behavior, he was reminded that Hermione wasn't _always_ a buzzkill. Truth be told, this wasn't the first time she'd turned a blind eye on Fred and his brother's mischief. Not that he counted on that luxury all the time though.

"Here," Fred instructed as he propped open the door for Hermione and ushered her in. "Let me at least get this load of bricks in here for you."

Making no effort to stifle his help, Hermione smiled thankfully at Fred as she walked in before him, eyes set on a desk she'd no doubt spent more hours at than she did anywhere else in the castle. With a loud _thump_, he placed the books on the wooden surface and shook his head.

"I'm in the library on a Saturday," he sighed, smirking. "This goes against everything I stand for."

He wasn't sure how it happened or how much time had passed, but before he knew it, he was in a full on debate with Hermione over the importance of the smart-answer quills he and George had been working on.

Settled comfortably between two chairs, his feet propped up on one as he leaned against the other, Fred had created a niche for himself in Hermione's study area and, much to his surprise, she had made no moves to shoo him. But more to his surprise, he had made no moves to leave either.

"It's dishonest, Fred!" Hermione scolded him with a look meant to look stern but showed her true amusement over the subject. "It's _cheating_."

"Not always," he defended. "They're just plain insulting sometimes. That's the fun of it."

"You know if you put your knowledge of charms to something more productive than cheating quills…" she trailed off as she fought away a smile. Her expression turned swiftly flat though, as if she'd just realized something, and Fred watched unsurely as she worked out whatever was on her mind. "…like teaching others."

Hermione spoke more to herself than to Fred and he observed in confusion across the desk, swearing he could see all the wheels turning in her mind.

"I need to ask you something," she said in a more serious tone, her hands shutting her book firmly shut and her focus on Fred alone.

"Ask away."

"I need to see you next weekend—for a meeting."

"If you're going to ask me to hang out in here again, I need to be clear that this is a one time deal," Fred joked but he only saw a faint rush of amusement touch Hermione's serious demeanor.

"Not here," she continued with a small smile. "Hogsmeade. I need to work out the details with Ron and Harry but…"

Fred raised an eyebrow as she trailed off once again. Attention fully set on Hermione, he waited patiently for her to finish.

"Just come to the Hog's Head," she said abruptly, nodding sharply to herself. "I'll let you know a time soon. Bring George too. It's important. That's all I can tell you for now."

He tried to unravel why it was so important for them to go to the Hog's Head but he kept the mystery to himself. Waiting a long moment, an attempt to stir Hermione's nerves just for the hell of it, Fred nodded shortly.

"We'll be there," he said finally. With a few grunts and chair squeaks, he was untangled from his makeshift recliner and on his feet once more. "But for right now, I believe I'm needed elsewhere. No worries, though—" Fred patted the pile of books and looked down at her, giving her a playful wink. "—I definitely _won't_ betesting out Wheezes while our dear prefect is busy in the library."


End file.
